


Hot sun on our heels

by hanzomymainman



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-07 05:54:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12227079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanzomymainman/pseuds/hanzomymainman
Summary: Hanzo moves across the world, to a country you'd least expect, only to be met with an even stranger surprise. A cowboy worlds away from home and a cat that feels far too smart for its own good.





	1. Little black cat

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya guys! I pretty much started writing this out of sheer spite from the blatant racism in the mchanzo fandom. Especially in depictions of Hanzo so hopefully i do him justice! At least somewhat. :D 
> 
> This fic is on hold after the 3rd chapter cause I'm in assignment season and law school is priority. But feel free to leave comments, i'm tryna grow as a write and honestly it makes my fckin day y'all. pls say hi!

Running away was the easy part, Hanzo decided. Leaving hanamura behind and forging a path hidden from the clan’s eyes wasn’t all that hard. He knew people outside the clan. People who were loyal to him and not just his title as oyabun, for the short time that he was oyabun.

Settling on a new place was also relatively easy. The clan would expect him to go west, to America or even the UK. Somewhere with big cities to hide in the crowds. High security places where he could hide behind red tape. But Hanzo was smarter than that. Or he thought himself to be. 

And so he had travelled south east. Hiding in cargo trains out of japan and further down the continent than he’s ever been. Through burma. Across thailand. All the way into Malaysia. 

The country’s security was horribly lax. The thai border may as well have been an open door for all the security it had. But Hanzo wasn’t one to say no to blessings. And so he walked his way into this country. Hot, humid, with afternoon rain to rival Hanamura’s spring showers. Close enough to the equator that it felt like the sun was on his heels at every turn. 

The clan had various dealings within this country. Some dealings the elders were reluctant to even let him in on. A lot of trafficking near the border. Humans. Organs. Disgusting trade if you asked him. But he supposes there was a reason the elders refused to involve him in those matter.

So, armed with a bag of spare clothes, his bow in a guitar case, money from the clan’s safe and documents forged, he made his way into Kuala Lumpur. And his first thought was, dirty. The air felt dirty, the streets felt dirty. Too many cars and people everywhere. Not an inch of free real estate. Perfect.

A globalized city big enough to be a cultural melting pot but small enough that it wasn’t being talked about internationally. He’d done his research on the city. There were areas where expats and migrants resided and just another japanese man wouldn’t make anyone cast a second glance. He had made his way to the area, called up the number on a ‘For Sale/To let’ banner hanging outside an apartment window and gotten himself a place. Lucky for him, the Japanese Yen was 4 times the local Ringgit. He gave himself a pat on the back for that, even if it was dumb luck. 

But those were all the easy parts. Now came the hard part, what was he to do alone in a city thousands of miles away from the only place he’d ever called home and surrounded by not a single familiar face. He was sure to run out of money at some point, although with the current exchange rate he was sitting rather comfortably for the next few months. But empty days let to wandering minds and heavy hearts. A job sounded appealing but what qualifications did he have to apply for a job. 

His studies had been within the palace walls by tutors that were sure not to lead him astray. Freedom was underwhelming. He barely knew what to do with it. 

For the first few days in the city all Hanzo did was sleep. He slept, and he woke to eat, and he drank, and he would fall back asleep drunk and wake up hungover. And he would repeat this cycle again, and again. And again. Until one night in his drunken sleep, he feels something nudge at his face. And instincts took control. 

He leaps off the floor, where he had collapsed the night before. Putting his back to the nearest wall, regretting letting his guard down at all. Stupid. He was stupid to think he’d be safe here. Fuck. With his mind in a panicked haze, head still throbbing from the alcohol, he surveys the room, eyes wandering to look for whatever it was that had woken him.  

And there he saw, the culprit. A fucking black cat. It stared innocently back at him from the armrest of his couch, as though it belonged there. As if it hadn't just given him a fucking heart attack. Fuck. His slid down the wall, breath rushed out of him in relief. Fuck was he tired. 

“Meow. Come here cat. Tch tch tch,” he patted the floor next to him, hoping the cat would come his way and not make him get it all the way across the living area. All 10 steps. Thankfully, the cat padded towards him. Not so thankfully, it decided to jump on Hanzo’s shoulder and settle there. “Where have you come from little cat?” he clears his throat, voice rough from disuse. “Huh? Do you have an owner?” He peers behind his shoulder to get a better look at the menace. No collar. A stray perhaps. 

What was he supposed to do with the cat then? They had always had cats at the palace but the most he did was give them attention. The cooks fed them and he supposed someone on the grounds must have washed them. It shouldn't be that hard to care for a cat. Right? Right well, he cannot simply throw the thing out to fend for itself. And he could use the companion. “I dont suppose you are hungry, cat? It was about time for me to eat anyways. Before you rudely gave me a heart attack,” he strokes the cat’s chin idly. “I suppose the fish will have to be split between the two of us for this meal hm?”


	2. Neighbour comes knockin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fucking cowboy? No.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2!! 
> 
> im procrastinating sooooooo much so I'm spewing more than i thought i would. Feel free to leave comments y'all it makes my day <3 enjoy the chapter! 
> 
> also any criticism on my characterisation etc is also welcome hmu on twitter @nadhsyahmi yall

At the mention of food, the cat had dashed ahead of him, into the kitchen and onto the counter. Strange for a stray to be this brave in a stranger’s house. But Hanzo was hungry and it was only a cat. He takes his time taking out a piece of frozen salmon and putting it into the microwave to defrost. He had struck gold getting a place that was furnished, albeit sparsely. The wonders of modern technology will never cease to grow old on him. He could hardly imagine living without a microwave or worst, no wifi.

He chuckles to himself. “You wouldn’t be concerned over not having wifi would you cat? How simple your life must be. Eat, sleep, walk into strangers’ homes and spike their blood pressure,” he mumbles to himself, every once in a while glancing at the cat resting comfortably next to the fridge. He sets out to take a tupperware of cold rice to reheat when he hears a knock on his door, and freezes. It’s soft at first, hesitant. But all of Hanzo’s red lights go flashing in his head.

_‘How could anyone have known to find me here?’ ‘no! they would not have knocked’ ‘perhaps they are tricking me into opening the door’ ‘they could have just as simply broken it down’ ‘no it is a good area’ ‘pfft as if the yakuza has ever been concerned over-’_

_Knock knock knock._ There it was again. Soft, hesitant knocks. Who? Who could possibly be visiting him? No one knew he was there. Fuck. Of all the days. He glares at the cat, but it simply ignores him in favour of licking its paws. Wary but not willing to wait any longer, he picks up his kitchen knife, ready to take down whoever it was if need be. His bow would be impractical, it would be better to simply slit their throat if he could get the angle.

But first, the door. He moves to reach for the doorknob, when he hears another sound. Meowing? More accurately, a human making meowing noises. From the other side of the door. He takes a step back from the door, slightly confused but mostly amused. What stranger was meowing outside his door? For the cat probably.   

As if this day wasn’t strange already. Hanzo swings the door open, hoping to catch whoever was on the other side by surprise. “Whoa there neighbour!” the stranger exclaims in surprise. In front of him stood, an honest to God, fucking cowboy. “No,” and he slams the door close in the cowboy’s face. He was not awake enough to be dealing with odd strangers this early in the whatever time of day it was.  

The knocking starts again on the other side. This time less hesitant and accompanied by mumbled words. “‘M real sorry to bother ya neighbour but i seem to have lost a cat? I dunno if y’ve seen it around? But i kinda need it fer eh… mmm,” the mumbling drifts off into indecipherable words from where Hanzo stood inside his unit.

Hanzo turns to look at the cat, it had jumped off the counter to join him in front of the door. “Is he your human then?” the cat stays silent at his question. Expected but disappointing nonetheless. Because that meant he will most likely have to open the door for the stranger again.

This time he inches the door open, face set in a scowl and knife still in one hand, just in case. “What?” he almost barks at the stranger. The stranger has the decency to look sorry and starts explaining once again. “‘M lookin for a cat? I dunno if he’s been yer way. He’s a black cat, no collar on him. I was just bout finished blowing him dry after a wash y’know. He was running outside earlier and y’know how it is around here, it gets real rainy and the mud sticks to errythin’ and he was treadin’ mud on my good carpet and…” he trails off, realizing he’s started rambling. The cowboy-stranger takes off his hat to run a hand through his hair, ruffling it more than it already was. “Ah well, ‘neways, im Mccree. If y’ve seen a cat around here, i’m in the unit above ya. Feel free to holla anytime and i’ll come runnin’,” he chuckles to himself, hands rubbing the back of his neck.

But before the stranger could leave, Hanzo decides to take pity on him and opens the door a bit wider, revealing a black cat peacefully standing behind him. Ignoring the conversation happening about him in place of licking his paws. “I believe this may be the cat you are looking for then?” he says, scowl still firmly in place, not particularly happy about giving away, or he supposed more accurately, returning, his only companion in a while.

The cowboy visibly sags, breathe rushing out of him in relief. “Jesus i thought i’d lost ya bud,” the stranger moves forward to take the cat and Hanzo had to physically block him from entering his unit. “Are all strangers in this complex this rude and barge into people’s homes without asking?” he bristles at the stranger’s brashness and turns to grab the cat himself. “Take it,” he says to the cowboy, or Mccree now according to his earlier introduction. Hanzo had his arms extended towards the cowboy, cat between them like an offering. “Kindly keep your cat within your unit from now on. I would rather not have this encounter again,” Mccree hurriedly grabbed the cat, fearing it might be taken away from him again.

“Thanks partner. Oh! I didnt get yer na-,” he’s cut off by the door slamming in his face before he could even finish his sentence. “I suppose that’s one way to end a conversation,” he looked down at the cat. “Now why’d u have to go and pick the angriest man on the block huh bud? Lil’ rascal.”


	3. Reminiscing in the rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo's stuck in his own head one too many times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3!!
> 
> im gonna pause on posting from here on out so this chapter's a bit longer so i can get this out of the way at least. I gotta get into my assignments, papers dont write themselves and all that. Enjoy the chapter! :D

Hanzo sighs after slamming the door. Alright perhaps that was more than a bit rude. But the cowboy was just … too much and he had tried to enter Hanzo’s space. Fuck. He didn’t run all the way across the world to make more people hate him. Fuck. He lets out a long sigh. What he wouldn’t do to have Genji with him. Genji would know what to do with this. He was personable, less angry. But Genji ran away from home a lot earlier than Hanzo had. Upped and left in the middle of the night after a huge fight. Their last words screaming obscenities and throwing curses.

The elders had asked him to kill Genji. Unsurprisingly. They had dropped hints that ‘one so dishonourable had no place in the shimada gumi’. But Hanzo had thought that they would simply disown him. That would have made _sense_. He could have given Genji money, made sure he was safe from afar. But no, they had asked him to _kill_ his own brother. And he _almost did_. It was only his Dragons manifesting in his dreams that stopped him. Screaming dishonour and feeding him grief. The dragons knew better than anyone how Hanzo had been lost in his own head, for years, acting on orders from the elders and nothing of his own accord. He hadn’t seen it though. Had simply acted and carried out the task, thinking it was his duty. It was, but it was also his curse.

And the same fate that befell so many others would have come to Genji had the Dragons not screamed sense into him. Break him of his stupor long enough for him to act. He had told Genji that night.

_“Genji! You need to leave, it is not safe for you here any longer,” he had pleaded with his younger brother._

_Genji had sneered at his words. “What would you know of my safety brother? You haven’t paid me any heed in years! You expect me to believe your words?”_

_Hanzo had dragged him to his room. “You don’t understand Genji-,” but Genji had cut him off before he could tell him, had pulled his arm free from Hanzo’s grip._

_"You are right, I don’t understand brother. I do not know what it must be like to be a lapdog. I would not know how it must feel to be a cold blooded killer. But that’s because i am not you and I am glad i do not understand. What worth is there in being alive if all you do is act on the whim of a bunch of old bastards?” Genji had stood there, shaking his head. “For your own good brother, i hope you realize all of this.” He had left with a parting brush against Hanzo’s shoulder. When morning came, news had spread across the grounds of the sparrow that had fled the Dragon’s nest._

He still doesn’t know what had happened to Genji. If he was still alive or if the elders had sent a more reliable assassin to finish his job for him. Perhaps he will never know. He pressed the heel of his palm against his eyes, stopping the prickling of oncoming tears. Hanzo was tired of thinking. But now his apartment was once again empty. Just him, his thoughts and a lumpy couch.

Food first. Then… well then can wait its turn for him to decide what to do with it, he figured.

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Then came around, along with more evening rain. It is almost as if the country wanted to drown itself in its misery. Well, Hanzo could definitely relate to that. But he had also run out of alcohol. And he could hardly drown in his own misery without alcohol. So for the first time since he first settled into the apartment, he had changed into his only pair of jeans and headed to the nearest grocery store. He needed more alcohol, he reasoned. He was a man on a mission.

The grocery store had been fairly easy to get to. He didn’t have to walk far but it would be an understatement to say that he would prefer to never have to walk in this country ever again. The people seemed to be stuck in some indeterminate time in the past while some parts strained against its archaic counterparts and reached for the present. Most of the cars on the road were gas powered and blew out dirty smoke, standing in stark contrast to all the tall well-designed buildings and omnics walking the street. Even in the rain, the air felt just as dirty as it would without and it was falling heavily enough that his flimsy umbrella did nothing. There goes his only pair of jeans. He supposed too that the omnics weren’t as bothered by the dirty air as he was. But his lungs thanked him when he finally made his way into the nearest shopping mall and headed towards the grocery store.

From what he could see, it was probably where all the expats in the area shopped as well. Middle aged men and women milled around looking like they had their life together. They probably owned a good car, a four bedroom apartment and 2 kids plus maybe even a cat. Or a pet fish.

But he was hardly there to practice his non-existent psychic powers on unwilling strangers, no he was there for the alcohol. Unlike the grocery stores back at home (pfft, home, he scoffed at himself), the ones here had a section labelled in big red letters ‘non-halal’ where the alcohol and non-halal meat was sold. Probably due to the fact that the country hosts a muslim majority. But that simply meant that he could make a beeline straight to the booze. All the better.

He got there and immediately reached for a couple of bottles of shitty beer, a bottle of vodka and one bottle of sake. They didn't seem to have any of the good ones but Hanzo wasn’t buying the alcohol to savour it. On his way to the cashier he decided on getting up a few more microwave ready rice sets, some cheap bacon and some sealed frozen fish. That will most probably last him at least 5 days at the very least, probably more if he ended up eating only once a day. He missed the more traditional Japanese foods they used to serve in the palace but it was simply too expensive here. And he was hardly going to waste money on nostalgia. No, he’s here to waste it on getting blackout drunk instead.

The little treats that lined the cashier queue was always his favourite part of grocery stores. When they were kids, him and Genji would always bet on who was able to reach the higher shelf. And he used to win it every time, that is until Genji learned how to scale shelves. But then he would always come back down with an extra packet of his spoils to give it to Hanzo. Those rare trips outside the grounds were the highlight of their childhood. Their mother had always tried to make sure that they felt more like children, and less like heirs to a criminal empire. It was nice while it lasted.

Stuck in his own head, it wasn’t until he stumbled into someone’s back that he realized he’d been reminiscing on better days. Stunned, he'd fumbled with the bottles in his arms, stupidly convinced he didn’t need a basket earlier. And just then, a large gloved hand had reached out to help him with some of his stuff. “Hey there partner. Y’look like y’could use some help. Lemme give you a hand,” those words made Hanzo freeze. He had heard that voice before, outside his door going on and on about a cat. ‘ _Perhaps if i pretend he is not there, then the foolish man will disappear’._ When that genius plan did not seem to work in his favour, he finally gave in and looked up and lo and behold, it was the cowboy-stranger-neighbour, McCree.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo learns the value of company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: hi guys! i know that when y'all read this theres gonna be some serious mistakes grammatically and just in general. I dont have anyone reading this before i post it so its just my eyes and i tend to miss a lot. but hopefully its not too too bad ya know. hope y'all like it! :)

Hanzo was tired. It is a persistent bone deep feeling that tugs at his heart and leaves him fatigued. And he does not want to speak to a cowboy in the middle of a supermarket. He does so anyways, but not before sighing like a sad cow. “Good evening, Mr McCree,” he gives a polite nod to his neighbour, and graces him with a put upon smile. McCree sees it more as a grimace. At least the man was trying. 

The cowboy chuckled, “Now theres no need for a mister,” he says his words with a twang that sounded like they should be accompanied by a guitar, or maybe a tractor. “McCree’s just fine,” and this time Hanzo is graced with a beaming smile. His neighbor is distracted for a while when it’s his turn to pay at the counter. Hanzo watches him talk to the cashier, he wasn’t paying attention to what was being said but he sees the girl blush as she hands mccree his shopping bag. The man was charming, he could admit that. And had a certain humility that made him easy to approach. Perhaps he had judged too soon.

Mccree had finished up paying and stood at the end of the cashier counter, just standing there and pretending to be preoccupied with his phone. Hanzo says pretending because he knows the cowboy was looking for a reason to talk to him. This man didn’t quit. 

He let the cashier ring up his stuff, paid and headed towards Mccree. “Come,” he nodded towards the door. And he could have sworn the other man lit up like a bulb. 

They walked together in comfortable silence. Hanzo was too tired to think about how to talk to this man. And Mccree was honestly pretty scared of being told to scram, again. This was progress, right? 

“So...” Mccree started. “Ya just moved in?” 

Hanzo glanced sideways at him and graced him with a quirked eyebrow. “Right. Yeah dumb question. O’course ya just moved in, i woulda seen u before otherwise.” 

He tries again. “So. How d’ya like it here so far?” 

Hanzo considers simply not answering and leaving the other man to flounder but he supposed that was mean. “It is fine. The locals are friendly,” he replies, and leaves it at that. 

Mccree nods. “Yeah that they are.” They walk in silence a while more, the apartment building within view. “Yer not much of a talker are ya?” Mccree mumbles to himself. 

Hanzo hums in response. He didn’t know what to say to the man. And he was never one to talk nonsensically. “I would like to ... apologize. For slamming the door in your face earlier. It was rather rude of me.” 

He’s graced with the same smile again. The one that lights up the other man’s face like he’s just he’s won the lottery. “Ah heck darlin’ was my fault for bargin’ in on ya like that. Anyone woulda been in a right fit. Was lucky ya didn’t just knock me flat on my rude ass,” his free hand is on his neck again. Hanzo would’ve thought it was endearing if he wasn’t so distracted from being called darling. Americans and their words. 

“Yes. I did not expect to be speaking to anyone much less someone so ... interesting.” 

“Didja just make a joke? Darlin ya wound me,” he says, but the smile is still on his face, if it were possible, it may have actually gotten wider. This man’s joy was infectious. Hanzo wasn’t even being particularly personable. He wasn’t even being nice. And yet this man took it in stride and somehow makes it seem as though Hanzo had personally told him he’d won a lifetime supply of cat food. 

They walk into the apartment complex, Hanzo slightly lost in thought. And Mccree tipping his hat as they pass the guard and walk to their building. The guards knew who he was by now, the scruffy cowboy from block 3A. 

Perhaps hanzo could admit that talking to someone besides the his white walls was a good thing for him. It was … pleasant. 

Even so, the elevator ride was silent, although surprisingly not awkward. When the door opens to Hanzo’s floor, he gives Mccree a small nod and graces him with a quirk of his lips that may well have been a smile. “Until next time mccree,” and heads back to the solitude of his apartment. 

“Till next time darlin,” Mccree says before the doors slide shut. “Hot damn if he aint cute,” he mumbles to himself. The cowboy is whistling a jaunty tune back to his own unit when he realizes he never asked for the man’s name. Dammit.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

The next morning Hanzo is greeted by a now familiar paw patting his face and an incessant meowing in his ear. This cat was just as bad as his owner. 

“Yes yes i am alive. Stop your fuss,” he grumbles and proceeds to burrow into his pillow, turning away from the cat. The cat simply moves to sit on his head. Truly these creatures know no boundaries. 

“What are you doing?” The cat gives him no response but starts to gently knead the side of his head. “Why are u even here cat? Did your master lose you again?”. He relents then and shifts to face the black cat, dislodging it from its perch on his head. Innocently staring at him as if it hadn’t just woken him up at an ungodly hour. What time is it anyways? One glance at his phone tells him it’s 6.30am. 

But now he was awake and he supposed he could be productive. He had to start at some point. So with a loud groan and aching muscles, he got up and proceeded to sit on his bed for another 15 minutes. There was nothing pressing for him to get to, but he supposed he could do his neighbour the courtesy of returning the cat. 

He decides to do his stretches for the first time in a while. Feeling the tug in his hamstrings and deltoids as he holds a position. A week of disuse takes a toll and he’s glad to have done it by the end. Perhaps he should make a routine of it again. 

All the white the cat sat on his bed, lazing in a spot of sun, waiting for his new friend’s next activity on the itinerary. Hanzo figures it would be best to return the cat before he has his own breakfast, at least then he wouldn’t have to worry about the cat going hungry. 

A quick shower and a rummage through his pile of dirty clothes for the least disgusting pair of pants later, he stands in front of his upstairs neighbour’s door, cat in tow and looking more presentable than he has in a while. He was going out for a walk after, nothing more. It definitely wasn’t because he didn’t want to look like an unshowered cretin in front of his kind neighbour. No, definitely wasn’t that.

He knocks on the door, the other hand cradling the black cat like a fat, furry baby. Music drifted through the cracks of Mccree’s front apartment and he could smell food from where he stood. When was the last time he’d had actual homecooked food? He couldn’t really recall. 

The door opens to a man he almost couldn’t recognize, and then he smiled. “Mccree?” 

“Oh! Didnt expect to get to see ya this early in the morning. And i see ya got yerself my cat again. M sorry bout him. Dont see too many people besides myself, probably why he’s been sneakin around,” Mccree reaches out for the cat, and hanzo hands him over on autopilot. 

“Yer okay partner? I’m makin breakfast for myself, just some pancakes. I like to start my mondays off good ya know. Ya wanna come in for a plate?” 

The man standing in front of him is wearing a well fitted shirt, dark slacks with not a hair out of place, and glasses. Which shouldnt stand out as much as it did, but Mccree looked good in them. He must have realized Hanzo was staring at his appearance after the man seemed frozen in place for more than a few seconds. “Errr partner? You okay? Issit the getup? I have work in about an hour and i work as a teacher at the school down the road. Sorry if this seems weird to ya,” he chuckles, almost self deprecatingly. 

“No! It is - You look… Fine. I mean you look good. Cleaned up,” he rolls his eyes at himself. He was too gay to be faced with this man at 7.15 in the morning. “You look good Mccree. And breakfast would be nice. Please.” As expected, Mccree smiles at that, although it is less of a grin this time and more of a gentle smile. Hanzo might almost say he looked … fond. 

“Come on in then partner. I’ll cook us up some pancakes.”

**Author's Note:**

> i know my updates are few and far between but i have a week off from law school so i'll try to get another chapter up in the next week :D
> 
> if you want you can find me on twitter @nadhmimi :D
> 
> ps- i deleted my old twitter cause of reasons but I'm on this new one, feel free to hmu here or there if u wanna. talk mchanzo wimme XD


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